


Unsolicited Advice

by FortunesRevolver



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, But damn it was fun to write., I still don't know how this came to be a thing., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FortunesRevolver/pseuds/FortunesRevolver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being the good man that he is, Zaveid has stepped in to help Sorey with his love life and offer a few tips on how to properly 'woo' Mikleo. Unfortunately, he hadn't taken into account Sorey's innocent nature and rather lacking sense of romance. It's going to be a much tougher job than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsolicited Advice

"Yo!" Sorey jumped as a hand slammed down on the middle of his textbook. His gaze rose, blinking owlishly at the suspiciously happy grin inches from his face before leaning back with an uncertain smile.

"Um..." Sorey coughed, unconsciously pulling his precious textbook closer to himself. "Hey there, Zaveid. Can I help you?"

Zaveid's grin only grew, and Sorey shrunk further back. He'd seen that look before, and more often than not it got him in trouble. A gleam in Zaveid's eyes was a red flag to turn around and get away. Fast.

"Actually," Zaveid pulled back and draped his arm lazily over the back of his chair, regarding Sorey with the same devious smile. "I'm here to help  _you._ "

"Me?" Sorey's eyebrows drew together as his attention fell down to his textbook, then back to Zaveid. He knew he wasn't the best with a small handful of subjects, but he'd never needed help with his archaeology reports. His gaze shifted, trailing over his - admittedly - messy notebook, then back up to Zaveid. Maybe he'd missed a joke again. "That's really nice of you, but I think I can handle--"

"Not the  _book_ , buddy-boy," Zavied rolled his eyes and brought himself forward to rest his chin in his palm. "I meant with our dear Mikki."

"Mikleo?" Sorey perked up immediately and pulled himself closer to the table. "Is he okay? Did something happen? Should I--"

"Whoa.  _Whoa._ " Zaveid held up his hand and shook his head to emphasize the point. "Slow down there, kid. He's just fine. I'm talking about helping you  _with_  him." The blank look he received in response wasn't encouraging, and Zaveid fought the urge to sigh. Why did no one ever seem to understand him when he was offering  _genuine_  help? He was an honest man! "You know..." Still nothing, and it was now a battle to resist banging his head down on the desk. "...Come on, Sorey! I wanna help you make a man of yourself with him! Woo! Flirt! Make him feel  _special._ "

"Oh. Um, really?" It wasn't the excited and eager response Zaveid was looking for, but at least Sorey wasn't denying the idea of it. That made his job that much easier. "I mean... What for? His birthday isn't for a while, and I don't think either of us have gotten an award or anything like that."

"What for? What f... _Sorey._ " Zaveid threw his arms out in a wide gesture, earning a small glare from the young student librarian behind the nearby desk. "You've gotta be  _kidding_  me. What reason does a man need to make the love of his life feel like the moon and stars? Like they're--"

"Shhh!!"

Zaveid paused mid-sentence and swivelled around to shoot the student currently in charge of the study centre an apologetic grin with a wink and tip of his hat. "Sorry about that, babe. I'll make sure Sorey here keeps it down."

"Huh? But I--" Sorey trailed off and shrunk back into his seat, following Zaveid's gaze to the irritated student. "...Sorry."

“Just keep it down.”

Zaveid returned her request with two upward thumbs and an even wider grin, completely unperturbed by how unimpressed she looked. The whole situation was starting to make Sorey feel more than a little nervous, but if the look on Zaveid’s face was anything to go by, he wouldn’t be escaping anytime soon.

“Now, where was I?”

“…um, the moon and stars.”

“Right, right.” Zaveid leaned across the table, earning another uneasy smile from Sorey as he continued without falter. “So, you want to learn how to make Mikki-boy melt, right? Feel like the only guy in the world?”

“Well…” Sorey hesitated. He knew most people had told him to be sceptical of any and all plots started by Zaveid, but making Mikleo feel special _would_ be nice. He _had_ always enjoyed seeing Mikleo smile. From the way his eyes would brighten, lighting up as if illuminated by the sun above. His expression would soften as his lips curved upward, lifting his cheekbones and causing his eyes to shut just a fraction of the way, allowing his eyelashes to—

“Uh, earth to Sorey? Hello in there. Geez, I haven’t already lost you to fantasy-land, have I? We’ve barely covered our first mission. Try and focus a little here. Save that for when you’re alone.”

“Wh-what?”

Zaveid hummed under his breath and nodded sagely, as if he’d just explained something impressive. “Mmhm, looks like you’re a healthy young lad after all.”

“…huh?” Sorey frowned, trying to catch up to wherever it was Zaveid was at. “I don’t—me? I thought we were talking about Mikleo.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Sorey. Your best pal Zaveid here will keep your little fantasies a secret.”

“Fantasies? But I don’t…”

Sorey’s words were cut off as Zaveid waved a hand through the air and picked up his notebook to flip to a new page. “Right, nothing at all.” He nodded again and grinned. “Anyway, let’s get serious. We’re going to start with one of the oldest ways known to man of melting a heart.”

“…what’s that?” Unable to stop the curiosity from melting into his tone, Sorey peered at his own notebook, as it words might appear to suddenly explain.

_“Well…”_

* * *

Clutching his notebook tightly, Sorey peered across the courtyard. It was easy enough to spot Mikleo amongst the groups and solo students studying under trees. His pale hair stood out, almost shimmering under the small beams of sunlight that broke through the leaves of his favourite tree. The breeze was light and gentle, carrying the aroma of flowers and fresh grass over the campus. Each gust ruffled Mikleo’s hair, lifting his bangs in a gentle dance across his forehead. It was a common sight, one Sorey saw almost daily, but each time left him as breathless as the last. 

“Are you going to sit down?” The voice jerked Sorey out of his thoughts and made him look down, stunned as he realised Mikleo was much closer than he remembered. Mikleo’s gaze never left the book in his lap, slender eyebrows drawn in slight thought as he frowned at the page below him. “Your staring is starting to creep me out.”

“Wh—Mikleo! What are you doing over here?”

“Studying. What does it look like?”

“But how did you…” Sorey trailed off and glanced over his shoulder, feeling a sheepish flush start to creep up his neck. He wasn’t standing by the exit of the study hall any more. “…get… over here.”

“I walked.” Mikleo frowned, finally raising his head to look at Sorey. “Just like you did. Are you feeling alright?”

“Um, yeah,” Sorey smiled and dropped down in front of Mikleo. “Sorry, I guess I zoned out for a minute.”

“…clearly.”

“So, uh, what are you studying?”

“Architectural influences on the Tintagel Ruins. For our test this week – you haven’t forgotten already, have you?”

“No! Of course not! I just—can I interrupt you for a minute?”

Frowning, Mikleo produced a bookmark from his bag with a smooth flick of his wrist and shut the textbook after marking his page. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, really.” Sorey nodded, holding up his notebook with a shy grin. “I just… wanted to show you something.”

Mikleo inclined his head, glancing briefly at the spiral notebook before returning his focus to Sorey and nodding once.

“Great!” Sorey grinned and immediately began leafing through the pages, stopping once he hit a page covered in a hurried font, half of which was scratched out with words and small notes lining the margins. “Okay, so Zaveid gave me this great idea—”

Almost immediately, Mikleo’s nose wrinkled, his expression becoming weary as he eyed the notebook. Almost anything that included ‘Zaveid’ and a ‘great idea’ were more often the exact opposite. “Sorey…”

“—and I wrote you a few things.”

“I—wait, what?”

Undaunted by Mikleo’s clear confusion, Sorey cleared his throat and settled down, raising the notebook to a more visible level as he started to read. “Oh Mikleo…”

“Oh no…”

“Thine eyes are like saucers,

How enchanting they are,

Unlike some monsters.”

Mikleo froze, his lips parting as he struggled to make sense of whatever Sorey had just read. No words came, however, and Sorey took the silence as a sign that he was allowed to continue to the next poem.

“He makes me lunch,

Which I love to munch,

He makes me treats,

All super sweets,

He’s got great style,

And a nice smile,

He’s the best in the world.”

Mikleo coughed, a strained noise followed the second poem. The poem had almost been half-decent. Almost. For as ridiculous as it was, at least it had started well, but halfway through it fell apart completely, and Mikleo briefly wondered if he was supposed to be laughing. Surely this could only be some sort of prank. A very, very _weird_ prank, or Zaveid’s idea of a cruel joke at Sorey’s expense. “Sorey--”

“Wait,” Sorey was practically beaming by that point as he gave the notebook a small wave. “I have a haiku too.”

“You _really_ don’t need--”

“He keeps me on point,

He never lets me go wrong,

He is my--”

“Stop!” Mikleo jerked forward, knocking his textbook to the ground as he covered Sorey’s mouth with a pale hand. “Just… just stop. What are you _doing?”_

“Rhudun yuh puhtruh.”

Frowning, Mikleo lowered his hand and crossed his arms, fixing Sorey with an unamused look. At least he hadn’t tried to lick his palm this time. _“What?”_

“Reading you poetry.” Sorey’s smile was as bright as ever as he held the notebook up a third time. “I have a few more if you’d--”

“I’m fine.” Mikleo replied quickly, not wanting the thought to solidify in Sorey’s mind. “It’s--you really don’t need to do that. Just… why?”

“I told you. Zaveid--” Sorey trailed off as Mikleo raised a hand and rubbed his forehead with the other.

“Nevermind,” Mikleo sighed and picked up his fallen book. “I think I’m better off not knowing.”

“Aw, but Mikleo--”

“Dinner.”

“Huh?”

“If you stop, we’ll go to dinner. Now. My treat.”

“Really?” Sorey perked up almost immediately and flipped his notebook shut. “Awesome! We haven’t eaten together all week. I’ve missed it.”

“…no,” Mikleo murmured, smiling faintly as Sorey picked up his backpack and offered a hand to help him stand up. “I guess we haven’t.”

* * *

“So, how did it go?”

“Well…” Sorey sighed and pulled out his notebook, giving it a forlorn look. “I don’t think he liked them much.” 

“No kidding? Let me see – maybe we just need to kick it up a notch.”

Nodding, Sorey slid his notebook across the table and watched as Zaveid gave his work a once over. With every line he read, Zaveid’s eyebrows drew closer together, and by the time he’d finished, his expression had twisted into something between pain and bafflement. “Sorey, uh, what… what is this?”

“Huh? It’s poetry, of course.”

“This… is not poetry. This is… this is a hot mess.”

“But…” Sorey’s shoulders slumped as he leaned against the table and took his notebook back. “You said to speak from the heart! So I…”

Sighing, Zaveid shook his head slowly. Perhaps sending Sorey in without an editor hadn’t been the best idea after all. Sorey had always seemed to have a pretty good head for most anything he tried; he didn’t think to take his creative prose abilities into consideration.

“I did,” Zaveid nodded slowly, “but, Sorey, you gotta… you know, embellish what the heart says a little. Pretty it up and add some silver and gold to it – make it worth a million or more.”

Sorey blinked, confusion briefly floating over his face before he nodded. “So I should borrow Alisha’s gel pens?”

“That’s, uh… Nevermind. Just forget the poetry for right now. I’ve got a better idea. We’re going to try a classic next. I’ll even help you out this time.”

“…are you sure this is going to work?”

“Positive. I’m gonna give you the best moves I’ve got.”

* * *

“Mikleo, there you are!” Sorey stepped into their shared dorm room, letting the door swing shut behind him as he dropped his backpack on his bed. “I thought you’d be in here… Too bright out?” 

“Mm,” Mikleo nodded, glancing to the closed blinds on the other side of the room from his desk. “There’s no clouds today…”

Worried, Sorey crossed the room quickly and bent beside Mikleo to better look at his face. “Are you alright? Do you need me to get you the sunglasses? Or maybe a gel? I think I’ve got a few Peach ones left over from the last time I was sick, if you have a headache.”

“I’m fine,” Mikleo shook his head and waved off Sorey’s concerned hands, a faint hue of pink dusting his cheeks. “I needed to use the laptop anyway.”

“What are you working on…?” Sorey asked quietly, moving to Mikleo’s bed, reluctant to sit further away than he had to. He hated seeing Mikleo confined indoors like this.

“Our powerpoint.” Mikleo replied, motioning to the screen. “Don’t worry,” he added quickly, cutting off Sorey’s protests before they could start. “I’m just changing a few of the colours so I can help you read during the presentation.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, did I make them too light again?”

Mikleo shook his head and turned back to the screen. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Oh…” Sorey hummed and leaned back, resting against Mikleo’s headboard. “Hey… Mikleo?”

“Mm?”

“…what’s your sign?”

“What?” Mikleo frowned, but didn’t bother to look up. “You know my birthday; look up a calendar if you can’t remember.”

“R-Right…” Sorey hesitated, trying to sit up a little straighter. “Well, what about… if you were a vegetable?”

Mikleo’s hands froze over the keyboard, his eyes narrowing a fraction before he continued. “Why would I want to be?”

“Because… I think you’d be a cute-cumber.” A snort was his only response, and Sorey felt a small weight start to form in his chest. He wasn’t off to a grand start, but he wasn’t about to give up either. “Do you have a map?”

“We have a number of maps.” Mikleo pointed to a number of rolled paper tubes in a far corner. “Which one are you looking for?”

“The… one for your eyes?”

“…what?” Mikleo frowned and glanced over at the bed. “My _what?_ ”

“…your eyes?”

“…I’m making the text black.” It was a blunt, obvious attempt to switch topics. “If I lower the opacity of the background images against a white backdrop, we should be able to keep them.”

Desperate, Sorey straightened again and racked his brain for the other lines Zaveid had offered him. “W-wait! I… Mikleo, I forgot my phone number!”

Inhaling slowly, Mikleo bit the inside of his cheek and tried to count down from ten before speaking. “It’s probably in your phone’s settings.”

“C-can I have yours?”

“…you _have_ my number.” Mikleo’s tone flattened, the struggle to keep it at a dull monotone harder than he thought. “And how would that help you with yours anyway?”

“I…” Sorey trailed off and rubbed his hand against his thigh nervously. “I don’t… kno—ah! Crap!” Wincing, he jerked his hand up as if electrocuted and stared at his palm. The blurred lines he’d carefully scribbled down earlier were messy and blurred, half of them completely illegible.

“…is everything alright?” Mikleo almost hesitated to ask. Given how nervous Sorey looked and his actions over the past few minutes, everything was most certainly _not_ alright, but he knew better than to press Sorey. Especially when he was being flighty.

“Y-yeah! I’m fine!” Sorey nodded, making his earrings flail about his ears as he squinted desperately at his palm. The one nearest his thumb was pretty legible. “I mean, wait! Mikleo…! I… I looked for your signature!”

“…what?”

“Because you’re a—no, wait. I… I looked for a signature on you?” He bent forward, bringing his palm closer to his face. “Because you’re a piece and they all… have… one…”

“Sorey…” Mikleo began slowly, turning away from his laptop to face the bed. “Have you… been trying to cook again? I told you to start opening the window; the fumes aren’t good for you!”

“Well, I did tr--wait, no! That’s not--I haven’t been to the kitchen since the cake! I’m just trying to… to…”

“To _what_ , exactly?”

“Zaveid said--”

 _“Again?”_ Exasperated, Mikleo brought a hand to his forehead and sighed heavily. What was with Sorey and Zaveid lately? First it was the poetry. Then it was an incident at the movies where Sorey had _insisted_ he pay for the tickets only to forget his wallet. After that had been a _very_ failed attempt at making what Sorey had claimed was supposed to be a cake, but had continuously bubbled and gave off a foul odor. Then it was singing which, admittedly, had been enjoyable up until the point Sorey had dropped the radio he’d been holding over his head and nearly toppled off the ledge was standing on in the process.

Now it was this. Whatever _this_ was.

“How many times do I have to tell you to _stop_ listening to his ideas? What is he even trying to _do?”_

“I don’t know!” Sorey cried, burying his face in his hands. “He’s been trying to _help_ me, but I don’t know _why.”_

“Then why are you still listening to him!?” Mikleo snapped, slowly feeling his irritation from the week start to bubble over. “You’ve been acting so _weird_ lately and you still won’t explain whatever it is you’re up to! Is this supposed to be some sort of _joke?_ Make fun of me until I--”

“No!” Sorey jerked up, a long smug of black running along his cheek and nose. “No! That’s not--! No! I never wanted to make fun of you!”

“Then what is it?!”

“I just wanted to make you feel special!”

 _“Special_? Why would you need to--”

“I don’t _know!_ ” Sorey groaned and fell sideways, grabbing one of Mikleo’s pillows to hug it to his chest. “…Zaveid said I wasn’t doing enough to make you feel special and… there was something about moons and stars and how I needed to embellish my heart and just…”

“Again, _why?_ ”

“…he never really explained that far,” Sorey admitted with a sheepish smile. “He just… started giving me ideas and I went with it.”

“That was your first mistake.”

“And when they didn’t work, he’d give me more.”

“You listened to them?”

“Mmhm.”

“Then that was the second.”

“But…! He was so excited about it and kept bouncing around so I… I didn’t want to disappoint him or hurt his feelings.”

“He’d have gotten over it,” Mikleo scoffed and crossed his arms. “Just like he will when you tell him to stop.”

“H-he never really give me a choice!” Sorey protested weakly and hugged the pillow closer. “And if I try to stop him now…”

“Then I’ll talk to him.”

“…huh?”

“I said I’d talk to him.”

“But Mikleo--”

“If talking to him for you gets all of this to stop, then I’ll do it.”

“But…” Sorey tried again and sighed, feeling his shoulders slump as his gaze travelled down. All he’d wanted was to make Mikleo feel _special_. Really special. Somehow, he’d managed to screw up each and every attempt. Perhaps it was better if he did give up. “…okay.”

“Good. Now get up.” Mikleo stood, closing the laptop with a loud snap. “We’re going downstairs.”

“What for…?”

“I’m going to show you how to make a proper cake.”

* * *

“So...” Zaveid began, prolonging the word as he eyed Mikleo from across their picnic table outside. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mikki-boy? It’s not often you call me out on a date like this. You didn’t abandon poor Sorey somewhere just to talk to me, did ya?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mikleo frowned. “I want to know what you’ve been doing to Sorey.”

“Huh? What’re you talking about? I haven’t done anything.”

“He’s been acting _drunk_. And _you_ are the only name that keeps coming up. Now… tell me.”

“Geez…” Zaveid sighed and leaned back, lacing his fingers together behind his head. “You make it sound like I’ve been teaching him something shady.”

“It feels like it.”

“There’s no harm in teaching a man how to flirt.”

“… _what?_ ” Mikleo stared, his mouth opening partway as he thought back to all the bizarre things Sorey had been doing as of late. In retrospect, it made a great deal of sense, and he almost wanted to kick himself for not noticing. “He doesn’t _need_ any of that.”

“Oh?” Zaveid grinned, the dangerous gleam that had gotten Sorey in trouble in the first place forming again. “So you don’t deny it either?”

“Deny what?”

“That you’ve got a thing for our little cinnamon bun.”

“And?”

Zaveid paused, he’d expected at least a _little_ resistance. Maybe he was more off his game than he thought. “…and, well, I was trying to help him along?” Another pause followed as he looked Mikleo up and down. “Although… maybe I’ve been helping the wrong guy. _You_ seem to know how the game works. At least a little. If I took you under my wing--”

“If your idea of ‘helping’ me is how you been failing to ‘help’ Sorey, then you can leave as soon as you promise to leave him alone.”

“That’s no fun at all,” Zaveid frowned and brought himself forward again, resting his elbows lazily against the table. “Besides, I--”

“Mikleo!” Before Zaveid could finish, Sorey’s voice broke their conversation, making them look up to see him jogging across the courtyard. “Mikleo! There you are! I finished up with my professor! We can get going now.”

Pushing off the table, Mikleo stood up and gracefully brought his leg back over the bench, grabbing his bag in the process. “I believe we’re finished here. Just stop trying to help Sorey.”

“Seriously?” Zaveid groaned and slumped down, chin bumping against the table’s surface. “Do you know how long we’ve all been waiting for you two to just get on with it. I mean, you’re perfect for each other!”

Slipping his arm through the strap of his bag, Mikleo turned away, pausing after a few steps to look back over his shoulder. “I know he is.” A small gleam danced in his violet eyes as he heard the familiar ‘fwump’ of an umbrella being opened a few yards away. It was sunny out, and Sorey knew he couldn’t see well under a cloudless sky. “Why do you think we’ve been dating since high school?”

Speechless, Zaveid could only watch in silence as Mikleo quickened his pace to meet Sorey halfway. He watched in silent fascination as Sorey immediately raised the umbrella, shielding Mikleo from the bright sky with a warm smile and an offer of a tanned hand which was immediately enveloped in a pale one. 

As he watched them walk away, Zaveid couldn’t help but take note of how closely they stood together. How their shoulders would brush every few seconds, how their fingers laced together as if the position was natural, and how easily their paces adjusted to keep in time with each other. It was almost comical just how much he’d missed.

“Well, damn,” he laughed, grinning as he took note of the single, gradient feather fluttering in the wind from where it hung at Mikleo’s belt. Suddenly it made sense why Sorey’s left earring only had one feather, unlike the right which held two. “Guess ol’ Zaveid still has a thing or two to learn after all.”

“Tch, no,” a voice growled from behind as a pair of footsteps brushed past Zavied from behind on their way across the yard. “You’re just an _idiot_.”

“No kidding,” a higher, much more exuberant voice laughed. “And here I thought _Dezel_ was the blind man on campus.”

“Hey now!” Zaveid leapt around the bench and jogged after the other two. “What’s that supposed to mean? Rose, babe, don’t leave me hanging with such cruel words!”

“It _means_ ,” Dezel growled, cutting in, “to stop screwing around and get back to the counselling office to do your damn _job_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mikleo is so incredibly pale with violet eyes (that almost look faintly pink in his character model.) Given he's a Seraph, that's fairly normal. But both his "human" outfits had glasses as well, so I wouldn't be surprised if, as a human, Mikleo was diagnosed with Albinism. But I digress.
> 
> I really don't know. This all started as a friend and I joking around about Zaveid giving dating advice to Sorey and Sorey, being precious and innocent, following it to a T. It all went down from there and I don't even know anymore. But it was a lot of fun to write -- and hopefully I don't just *think* I'm funny.
> 
> Poor Zaveid... Everyone else had already figured it out or been told at some point. Mikleo probably kept him out of the loop because of spite. Or to avoid giving Zaveid some of that juicy gossip. At least he briefly got the upper-hand at the end there. ...probably won't last long though. But maybe Dezel will keep him from getting in their hair too much. 
> 
> Also, Sorey's oh-so-lovely poetry was written by twilight-symphony of tumblr. Interestingly enough, they're also my Mikleo's Sorey in RP. So maybe it was just meant to be.


End file.
